Category Archives: Tales of the Dim Knight

Crouched in a roof access stairwell, Invisibility Master pressed a button on his suit and vanished from human sight. He threw open the door and ran onto the roof.

At Powerhouse’s approach, Invisibility Master pulled out the rocket launcher and fired. Powerhouse dodged the rocket and flew into a vacant office building.

The blast hit too close, and the current in his invisibility suit died. He cursed—the force of the rocket had temporarily disabled his suit. He ran back down the stairs.

~

Marcos crept through Reverend Jones’s house to the study. With the music blaring, the reverend wouldn’t hear a bull elephant. Marcos opened the door with a gloved hand. The reverend glanced up from his book.

He trained his revolver on Jones. “Put the book town, get up, and turn around.”

Crouched in a roof access stairwell, Invisibility Master pressed a button on his suit and vanished from human sight. He threw open the door and ran onto the roof.

At Powerhouse’s approach, Invisibility Master pulled out the rocket launcher and fired. Powerhouse dodged the rocket and flew into a vacant office building.

The blast hit too close, and the current in his invisibility suit died. He cursed—the force of the rocket had temporarily disabled his suit. He ran back down the stairs.

~

Marcos crept through Reverend Jones’s house to the study. With the music blaring, the reverend wouldn’t hear a bull elephant. Marcos opened the door with a gloved hand. The reverend glanced up from his book.

He trained his revolver on Jones. “Put the book town, get up, and turn around.”

Powerhouse’s ears twitched. On the street below, a police officer’s radio crackled. “All available units respond to a code 90 at the Seattle Center. Suspect has fired three rockets from a shoulder mounted launcher into local buildings. Captain Welch has set up a command center at First and Thomas.”

“This looks like a job for Powerhouse. Powerhouse away!”

~

In the bushes outside the reverend’s study, Marcos peered through the window. The reverend typed on his computer. Across the street, a car door creaked open. Seemed the cops had spotted him. He pulled out a dart gun. The cops were on the take, but he needed to knock them out with the darts, so they’d have an excuse for not stopping him.

He turned, fired twice, and missed.

Time to reload.

~

The Invisibility Master crouched in an alley, leaning on his rocket launcher. The police combed the area outside. Powerhouse flew above them.

A white jaguar stalked Seattle’s streets. The Invisibility Master pulled up to a curb and grabbed his shoulder mounted rocket launcher. He fired at a building. It burst into flames. He loaded another rocket and fired at another building.

This ought to get Powerhouse’ s attention. Now just to evade the police until that tin-can do-gooder shows up.

The Invisibility Master fired another rocket for good measure, grabbed three more, and ran off into the middle of the city.

Continued from Part Four
Inside Night Lord’s midnight black lair, lit by a black light bulb, Marcos folded his arm. “All this elaborate plotting, and all you accomplished was to lose a two million dollar helicopter.”

Night Lord put his feet up on his silver desk and leaned back in his chair so far that he was almost upside down. “Hey, I came closer to killing Powerhouse than anyone else ever has.”

And not close enough to falling backwards and splitting your head open—yet.

“Irrelevant. Your target is the reverend. Someone more competent will be handling Powerhouse. This afternoon, take care of the reverend.”

Night Lord sat up, his eyes narrowing. “What’s my name?”

“Nigel Lemming.”

The freak dropped his feet to the floor, murder in his eyes. “That’s Night Lord to you. Notice it’s not Dawn Lord, Morning Lord, and especially not Afternoon Lord.”

“Don’t get cute with me.”

“It’s in my contract. I said I’d lie, cheat, and steal—at night.”

“So you’re not going to do this because you’re neurotic.”

Night Lord spread his hands. “Hey, you agreed to it.”

“Fine, I’ll handle this.” Marcos fingered his revolver, pulling it half way out of its holster. “But you’re on thin ice, Nigel.”

The copter’s mounted guns unleashed a fury of bullets. Focusing, Powerhouse made a Kevlar shield appear in front of each gun. The bullets deflected, piercing through the cockpit door. Powerhouse pushed against it. “No good, it won’t give.”

Wow, I’m stating the obvious to myself. I really am a superhero.

The copter shot up higher. Powerhouse slammed himself into the wall. After six tries, it gave. He burst into the cockpit. No pilot. Just a timer with Night Lord written in Matisse silver lettering on a midnight black background:

Night Lord

Powerhouse whistled. “Cool logo.”

“Glad you like it,” said a voice over a radio. “Goodbye, Powerhouse.”

The timer on the plastic dashboard showed thirty seconds. Powerhouse ripped out the dashboard, broke the windshield, and flew through the hole.

The copter’s explosion turned his metal suit into an oven and singed the spandex tights he wore underneath.

He doused himself in the neighbor’s sprinklers and let the steam vent out. Cooled down, he flew into Reverend Jones’ house. Bullet holes dotted his room and a bloody lump lay in his bed, blood splashed all over the walls. Powerhouse sniffed at the strange smell. “Grape juice?”

Jones came in wearing only exercise shorts. “What are you doing in here?”

“Where’d you go?” asked Powerhouse.

“To the basement to exercise. I couldn’t sleep. What happened here?”

Powerhouse puffed out his chest. “The villainous Night Lord attacked you, but his efforts were thwarted by Powerhouse.”

“Ya know, it’s weird when you refer to yourself in the third person.” The pastor glanced around. “Guess I’m going to need more grape juice.”

Night Lord and a cohort—Tim he was pretty sure—abandoned copter by parachute and landed in Jones’ front yard. Night Lord and Tim drew telescopic rifles from their backs, aimed for the bedroom window, and fired a stream of bullets through the glass.

Night Lord peered through his sights at the window. Dark liquid oozed from the lump under the burgundy covers.

Powerhouse muted Reverend Jones’ TV and pushed up out of the easy chair, a glass of milk in hand. Powerhouse pulled open the curtains.

A helicopter hovered a few feet above the ground. Guns protruded from the copter. A hail of bullets streamed in.

Dodging bullets, Powerhouse flew out the window and landed beneath the copter. He located a soft spot in the copter’s under-belly and broke through. “You can’t escape Powerhouse, you villainous villains!“

Inside the copter, a steel door closed underneath him. He turned. Guns mounted on the wall targeted his vital organs.

Must move quickly and, if I get out of this, must buy the kids a thesaurus.